Challenge of the clans by Kenneth C Flint Page B

Ireland, Luachra will find him."
    "rm certain that we all hope so," the druid said pointedly.
    Chapter Nine
    CAOILTE MACRONAN
    "You say that this boy youVe come across is a fighter, do you, Cnu Deireoil?" the chieft:an said, looking across the fortress's yard to where Finn stood by the gateway, gazing about him.
    "And have I ever given bad counsel to you, Cian?" the little man answered easily.
    The chiefi:ain laughed. "Not when it suits your own ends." He examined the young man with a critical eye. "I suppose he does seem fit enough," he admitted, but added doubtfiilly, "still, he hasn't a warrior's look about him. He hasn't even got a sword."
    "He's had no training in the warrior's arts before," Cnu Deireoil explained, putting sorrow into his voice. "Ah, poor lad! He's been an orphan since childhood, hving on his ovm in the wilds, that he has. But he's very quick. I've seen few swift:er or more agile in the moving. And if I'm any judge, he's a quick learner as well. A bit of training and you'll have yourself a marvelous warrior."
    The chiefl:ain listened to this cajoling speech with interest, watching the little man's face carefully. When it had ended, he asked, somewhat suspiciously, "What are you about, my friend? You sound as if you're trying to sell the lad to me. I've a feehng I should mistrust you."

    "Me!" Cnu Deireoil said in an offended tone. "And when have I ever tried to take advantage of you?"
    "Nearly always," Cian told him bluntly.
    "Oh, well," the little man said, looking hurt, "if the poor Little Nut can't help a boy out of pity without being taken for a rogue—"
    "All right, my friend," the chieftain said hastily, holding up a hand. He liked the musician and had no wish to anger him for fear of his not coming again. "If you are so concerned about this lad, well see if hes the sort that I can use. Just see, mind you!"
    "I can't ask fairer than that," Cnu Deireoil agreed, and the two started across the yard toward Finn.
    Throughout their talk, the young man had been quite rapt with his examination of the interior of the fortress. It was the first one he had ever been inside.
    It was much as he had expected, though a bit less imposing than he had visualized. Like the other one he had seen, it was a rath— a lios surrounded by a bank of earth topped by a stockade. The whole ring fort sat on a high, smooth-shouldered hill that gave fine vantage over the broad meadows around. This view insured that no enemy could come upon the fortress by surprise and allowed herdsmen to watch over the grazing cattle that were the chief wealth of the tribal tuath .
    Against the inner wall of the stockade there were some simple, rickety sheds that comprised the stables and storage sheds for the fortress. Near the center of the yard sat the meeting hall, a large, oval building that showed much wear. Its daub walls of mud and dung were cracked in spots. Sections had fallen away to reveal the basketlike wattle framework beneath. The thatched roof that rose steeply to a high peak was badly weathered, the straw torn away in spots, giving it the look of a hound balding with the mange. Around it were gathered other buildings, smaller and even sorrier versions of the central hall, like forlorn pups around their mother at feeding time.
    The space between this cluster and the stockade wall was open, the ground bare and hard-packed by years of trampUng feet. Here some two score men were

    hard at work practicing with weapons. From his examination of the fortress itself, Finn's attention went to them, and especially to one young warrior. He was working with a sword, holding two opponents at bay. This he did easily, almost playfully, parrying cuts and thrusts with casual gestures as he danced about the two befuddled men. Finn was quite fascinated with the warrior's skills and began to watch his moves carefully.
    So absorbed was he that he didn't notice the chieftain and Cnu Deireoil approaching from the hall until his new comrade hailed